I nod toward the hall and step out, Torin follows. I wait as he turns his light off and closes the door. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He shakes his head. I’m not sure I believe him since he’s chewing on his lip. But before I can ask, he says, “Thanks for teaching me to skate.”
I grin. “You need more lessons.”
Torin gives me a demure look, which only makes me smile. “Then you can give me more lessons. Private lessons.”
Laughing, I nod. “Yep. I’ll get you skating yet. I’ll even teach you how to hold a stick.”
“I know how to hold a stick,” he blurts out as he looks away, his cheeks turning bright red.
“On the ice,” I correct.
Torin looks back at me, amused. “Right.”
Once we’re outside, I stop, grabbing his arm so he stops too. “You’re sure you’re not hurt? I’m sorry I tripped over the bucket. I wasn’t watching where I was going and there aren’t usually buckets on the ice.”
He nods. “I’m fine. You broke my fall. I was just startled.”
“Me too. I’m glad you’re not hurt, though.”
Torin smiles, nodding again.
“So… Want Italian again? Or you want to try someplace else?”
“We had Italian two days ago.”
“Okay, someplace else. Follow me.”
Torin agrees and I watch him head to his car. He’s not in his hoodie or hat anymore. He’s in black jeans still but now he’s wearing a black tank. His hair is fluffed a little from the hat, but he has the strands tucked behind his ears. They’re only just long enough to reach, but not to stay there for long.
He glances at me as he reaches his car and gives me a curious look. Oh, right. I’m still standing here. I flash him a smile and head for my car. I’m starving.
Chapter Ten
TORIN
I’ve always hatedwhen the team has away games. Not just because of my obsession with Hugo, but because it’s so quiet here. While I enjoy there being far less people around to make me feel anxious, the building makes a lot of sounds when it’s so quiet.
But also because Hugo and I have been hanging out a lot now. Even when he’s away, we talk all the time. He’s only been gone for five days this time and he’s heading home now. The real me, where he talks to me in the messaging app, was notified first as soon as he got on the plane. It was an hour before anonymous me was told via text.
I get different sides of him depending on where we’re talking. And yet, they’re both very much the same person, even though the conversations are slightly different. Anonymous me gets something slightly more romantic and flirty. The me he knows and is intentionally seeking out doesn’t get that part.
Yet, I’m so fucking sure he nearly kissed me on the ice. If we hadn’t tripped over the bucket, he would have. I’m positive. I’ve played that moment over and over again in my head and have almost broken down to tears because it wasso damn close.
But then what? I argue. It might become awkward between us. It might have ruined our friendship. I’d much rather have his friendship than nothing at all.
My aching heart isn’t always on board with that idea, since I’vebeen yearning for this man for ages. But I’m confident it would feel otherwise if he just stopped coming around or messaging. The thought alone makes me tense.
I’m sitting in my car at Hugo’s house, waiting for him. He messaged me when the bus pulled into the arena. I’d already been on my way because of the long drive, so I’m not surprised that I got here first. I’m not even going to pretend I didn’t miss him like crazy. I did. I do.
I’m watching the road from behind the wheel of my parked car like a creep when I finally see Hugo’s Audi pull onto his street. My heart rate spikes as I push open my car door just as he pulls in. Hugo is out almost before I am, and there’s no wonder why my heart is convinced he almost kissed me on the ice when he immediately sweeps me into his arms and hugs me fiercely.
“I’m going to start a petition to allow our mascot to come with us to away games. I’ll even share my room,” he says in greeting.
No, I’m not reading into that at all!!
“Missed you too,” I whisper.
